Hermione Granger and the Death Eater's Notebook
by Shark Byte
Summary: Partial repost.  Hermione stars in some rather random adventures.
1. The Bother with Boggarts

**1: The Bother with Boggarts**

Harry Potter had just finished with his last class of the day, and was on his way back to Gryffindor, when something in the dark shadows spoke up not three feet from him.

Something: "Oh, Harry, sir?"

Harry: (somewhat startled) "Dobby? What are you up to?"

Dobby: (obsequeous as usual) "Nothing of importance, sir, just remembering something from long ago. Something I thought you should know about."

Harry: (thinking 'oh, what am i getting into now?') "Huh? What sort of a something?"

Dobby (whispering into Harry's ear): "The notes of one of the original Death Eaters, sir. A friend of my old master kept a notebook, and I remember where he stashed it!"

Harry: (looking quite interested now) "Really? Where?"

Dobby: "Its in a cave, sir. More of a cavern, actually. I've drawn you a map."

Dobby handed Harry what at first glance looked just like a napkin with some scribbly lines drawn on it. That's because that was exactly what it was. But upon closer inspection, Harry could see that the scribbly lines were actually a **map**, and quite a detailed one at that, showing the position of the cave relative to Hogwarts.

Harry: (examining map) "Hmm, ok... so this box here with the big X on it is... Wow, this is **some map!**"

Dobby: "Good luck to you, sir. I must be off now."

Harry: (wanting to ask more questions) "But..."

Dobby ducked back into the shadows and was gone. Harry stood there for a moment, pondering the map, and then headed for the library, where he knew Hermione would be studying.

When Harry reached Hermione's usual spot at the library, she and Ron were there studying, and didn't seem the least bit interested in Harry's napkin with the scribbly lines on it.

Herm: (smirking) "Are those your notes from class?"

Ron: (Snicker)

Harry: "Its a map. Dobby gave it to me. It's supposed to show where some Death Eater stashed a notebook years ago."

Harry spread his napkin/map out on the table, revealing the full extent of Dobby's scribbly-line map, and Hermione's and Ron's expressions changed from smugly sarcastic to interestedly amazed.

Herm and Ron, in unison: "Wow, this is **some map!**"

Harry: "That Dobby can sure draw, can't he? We should get him to draw some pictures to go with this fanfic."

Herm: "Well, if there **is** a Death Eater's notebook in there, we definitely should go get it. The three of us, around noon Saturday?"

Ron: "Sounds good. We can meet back here, study the map a bit, then head out for that cave."

[Skip to around noon Saturday, back at the library. Nothing happened in the meantime that would interest you, except that Crabbe got into some trouble for scrawling "Dumbledork" on the sidewalk.

Harry: "I got my inviso cloak."

Herm: "My backpack is packed with everything we could possibly need for a spelunking trip."

Ron: "And awaaaaay we go!"

And with that, the three musketeers went beboppin' it across the lawn... well, actually more like they went **creeping** along, hoping no one would notice, because the cave was in the forbidden forest where they weren't supposed to go. They reached the entrance to the cave within two minutes; surprisingly close by, it was. "Lumos." In they went.

Ron: (noticing a really deep hole in the ground) "Gawd, what a crevasse, I wouldn't want to fall into **that**!"

Herm: "Oh, my, all these solid black places on the map must be deep pits or crevasses! We'd better take it slow and careful!"

Dobby's amazingly accurate map led them right to a room. With furniture in it, even. The box with the big X on it turned out to be a rolltop desk, which they promptly ransacked, finding a chewed pencil, some balled-up paper, and a **notebook**! With a **green skull** drawn on the front of it! And nothing else worth keeping. "Ok, lets get back to Hogwarts." But as they turned to leave, a buzzing sound began to come from... **where**? It seemed to come from **all over**.

Then their unmistakable forms appeared, pouring with blitzkrieg fury out from behind every piece of furniture by the thousands, their angry wings beating the air into a...

"**!!!! BEES !!!!**", they shrieked in unison, running out the door. "Oh crap, holy crap", they muttered in panic, trying to race ahead of the oncoming swarm without falling to their deaths.

There it was, the opening to the outside world. Clutching the notebook, Hermione sprinted out of the cave and into the light of day. Harry followed right after. But Ron had tripped and the bees were swarming all around him. Even worse, they seemed to be actually barring his exit from the cave.

But Hermione noticed something peculiar. They weren't stinging him. What kind of bees act like **that**? (Ding, light bulb over head) What if those are **boggarts**? Hermione and Harry both pulled out their wands and, aiming into the thickest part of the swarm, began casting "Ridikkulous", over and over. And sure enough, some of the bees began to transform into other things.

But Ron wasn't getting it. He was already in too much of a panic. Soon he was surrounded by terrifying beasts of every description, and he was screaming and running around, raising the very real possibility that he might run right into a deep crevasse and fall to his death.

Harry tried a different tactic. Rather than try to cast at each individual boggart, he began waving his wand in wild swoops, shouting "**Rrrriiiiddiiikkuuuullooouuuussss!!**" Well obviously, **that** didn't work. Harry was at wit's end and was about to go running into the cave and **drag** Ron out (not a good idea with that many boggarts), when he heard something he most definitely was **not** expecting to hear.

**"Imperio!"**. And it was **Hermione** that said it!

Harry peered into the cave, wondering if it was even **possible** to cast Imperius on a boggart. Apparently not; they seemed quite unaffected. In fact, they swarmed more furiously than ever around Ron, who was now in the dead center of a virtual **boggart hurricane**, standing there calmly like the eye of the storm, staring vacantly into space with an almost pleasant... Wait a minute! Ron? It wasn't the **boggarts** Hermione was casting at. She had put the Imperius curse on **Ron**!

"Pick up your wand and come out here.", she said softly.

Ron reached calmly down, and shooing away a spitting cobra, picked up his wand. Then he strode with serene confidence through swarms of angry bees, heaps of long-fanged vipers, half a dozen Voldemorts, and many other miscellaneous monstrosities, and out of the cave to join Hermione and Harry in the light of day.


	2. Dead for a Day

**2: It's good to be alive again**

The raiders of the lost notebook turned and headed back towards Hogwarts. And they made it out of the forbidden forest uneventfully, except for one thing: Hermione was sure she had heard a rustling sound in the bushes. It was probably nothing, she knew; maybe a hedgehog. But it was enough to make her wonder: Had someone been watching? She had cast the Imperius curse out of desperation and for Ron's own good, but would that make any difference in court? Perish the thought, it was just a hedgehog.

They were almost back to Gryffindor. But just as they were rounding a corner, who did they come face-to-face with, but Professor Snape! "Nice afternoon for a walk.", he said almost pleasantly. "But remember, Tuesday's assignment will be a challenging one."

"Aaa chaaalllennnngiiinnnng onnnne...", droned Ron. Hermione's thoughts reduced themselves to a single word, which she barely stopped herself from blurting out loud: **"D'OH!"**

Snape heaped his usual derision on Ron. "Is mimicking **all** you can do, Weasley?" Ron looked slowly toward Snape. "...D'ohhh...", Ron mumbled. Snape gave Ron a closer, more suspicious look. "D'oh indeed. Ron, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were under the **Imperius** curse." Hermione's heart skipped a beat. Snape then turned and looked her straight in the eyes. The bottom dropped out of Hermione's composure. The only reason she didn't show it was that she was simply frozen in abject terror. The gig was up. Snape knew! She was going to spend the rest of her life in Azkaban with those... **dementors!**

"Just because Monday is a holiday, that doesn't mean you three can make this a slacker weekend.", lectured Snape. "By Tuesday, I expect you to be well studied, well rested," (he now looked again at Ron), "**and sober!** Five points from Griffindor, Weasley. Maybe next time you'll remember, even with **butterbeer**, you still have to know your **limits**." Hermione went from numb with terror straight to dumbstruck with relief. **Snape was clueless!** Suddenly released from the grip of utter terror, she did the only reasonable thing she **could** do: she passed out.

"Well, well...", Snape clucked, looking smugly down at Hermione. "Better make that **ten** points from Gryffindor. And what about you, Harry? How many gallons of butterbeer did you drink today?" "None for me, professor", Harry heard himself saying. "I want to keep my wits about me in case you-know-who turns up." Snape turned up his nose, appearing rather irritated that he didn't have a ready excuse to take points from Harry. "Make sure these two **sots** make it back to their rooms, will you?" Harry nodded. "Will do."

When Hermione came to, Snape was gone, and Ron was beginning to act more like his normal self. For the rest of Saturday evening and into the night, they sat clustered around the notebook, reading, discussing, and pondering its dark and sometimes cryptic scribblings.

Ron: "So what's this 'weakness' he keeps referring to?"

Harry: "He doesn't actually come right out and say it, but it does sound as though Voldemort has a secret weakness."

Herm: "And the Centaurs know about it."

Ron: "Where do you get that?"

Herm: "Here on page 6. He's worried that the Centaurs might 'spill the beans'."

Ron: "But that could refer to anything!"

Herm: "Well, its obvious that the Centaurs know SOMETHING that the Death Eaters didn't want to get out, but it's not like we can just waltz in on them and ask. They'd kill us for sure."

Myrtle: "I'll ask them. They can't kill me, I'm already dead."

Herm, Harry, and Ron, in unison: "AAAck!! Moaning Myrtle! How long have you been here?"

Myrtle (smirking): "Long enough to know you need my helllllp..."

The trio exchanged confused glances, then all looked at Myrtle, obviously expecting her to say more.

Myrtle: "Come on, now... I visit the Centaurs every now and then, and I want to see old Voldy dead just as much as you do..."

Herm: "Sounds like a plan, Myrtle. See what you can find out, and... **'Voldy' ??**"

Myrtle closed her eyes in nostalgia. "Old Tom Voldemort... Back when I was alive, I thought he was so bloody cool... Slick hairdo, fancy duds, flashy spells. Dark Arts were kind of in fashion back then. But then... God how senseless... then he let loose that **STUPID BASILISK! **and it looked at me and I **died!** I'll talk to the Centaurs, I'll find out what his secret weakness is, and we'll... Grrrr... I want him to **suffer!** If **I** were a **basilisk** I'd bite his ugly head clean **OFF!**" And with a ghostly battle-cry, Moaning Myrtle the life-cut-short went tearing angrily across the lawn and into the forbidden forest, hoping to seal the demise of the one who caused hers.

Ron: (mumbling) "I wonder what his secret weakness **is**?"

Harry: (sarcastically) "He's allergic to peanut butter."

Herm: (yawning tiredly) "Well, we might as well get some shuteye while we wait for her to get back.."

And with that, she stashed the notebook in her backpack and headed up to her room. Ron and Harry each stumbled their way to their rooms, and soon, all were sound asleep.

Sunday morning came and went, and Hermione was starting to wonder if Myrtle was ever coming back. She knew that although a ghost couldn't get killed, it could get into trouble. The same basilisk that killed Myrtle proved **that** when it's deadly gaze put a **ghost** into a coma. Finally, as she was finishing lunch, she caught sight of a bewildered, depressed-looking ghost. Moaning Myrtle was once again living up to her nickname.

Herm: "What happened?"

Myrtle: "I don't know. The Centaurs kept talking about some incident from years ago. So many names, so complicated. I don't think they actually know what you-know-who's weakness is, but there sure is a lot of talk about him... I can't remember half of what they told me, and I don't understand much of what I do remember. I'm sorry I'm such an idiot."

Herm (looking at the floor): "Blimey drat. I'd go out there myself, you know, but no doubt I'd come back a ghost."

Myrtle: "Of course, if you were already a ghost, you could just go wafting out there yourself." 

Herm: (Ding, light bulb over head) "That's right, I could... Hmm, I remember reading about a potion... Myrtle, if you had the chance to live again, but only for a day, would you take it?"

Myrtle gaped at the thought. At first, she didn't seem to know **what** to say. But her expression soon changed to a wry smile. "Hell yeah I would! I have some regrets I think I could fix in a day."

To the library went Hermione, Myrtle in tow. flip flip flip, read read read... "Here it is!", Hermione pointed to a paragraph midway through the dusty old book. "This potion will allow the ghost of a dead person to inhabit the body of a living person for one day, during which time that living person's ghost will be out-of-body, and free to roam." She picked up a pen. "As they say, when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping." And with that, Hermione took some notes, made a list, and **went shopping** (for potion ingredients).

Hermione returned from Diagon Alley with a number of tiny vials and bags, containing liquid and powdered extracts from various magical plants and creatures, which she then proceeded to stir into a small cauldron in the exact amount and sequence prescribed in the book she had read earlier. And with that ever-practical spell she had learned in her first year at Hogwarts, the flame-in-a-jar, she brought the potion to a rolling boil.

"Ok Myrtle, hop in."

* * *

Moaning Myrtle hovered within the thin plume of rising vapor, and seemed to condense into it like breath onto a cold window. The potion billowed huge quantities of steam as Myrtle rained down in droplets onto its bubbling surface. And just as the last drop of Myrtle had sunk into the boiling brew, the steam ceased to rise, for the potion was no longer boiling. Frost formed on the sides of the cast iron cauldron, which now contained about half a cup of ice-cold blue liquid, with a pair of ghostly eyes staring up from its swirling surface.

Hermione gazed into the potion, and the potion gazed back at Hermione. "Remember, Myrtle, this body is going to be yours for a day, but I'm going to want it back, so don't go getting it killed or mutilated, ok?" The potion blinked its ghostly blue eyes in affirmation. "I promise." Hermione turned to Ron and Harry. "Keep an eye on her, you two."

Hermione hefted the small cauldron to her mouth, and chugged down the icy brew. It tasted rather like... well, almost, but not quite, umm... Ok, there's just one word for it: **Bleah!** Hermione shuddered from the totally gross taste of the icky goop she had just imbibed, and fell flat on the floor, lying perfectly still as a thin white vapor cloud emanated from her nose.

When she opened her eyes, it wasn't Hermione anymore. It was her body, alright, but it was Myrtle that was looking out of them. Ron and Harry stared down at their transformed friend, or rather the body of their friend with someone else at the helm.

"Ok, I'd better get going if I'm going to do this in one day!" the ghost of hermione shouted from above, startling everyone. Ron and Harry looked up at Hermione, and cringed at the sight of their best friend as a **ghost**. Ron felt a faint, sickening chill, a lurch in the pit of his stomach. Even though this was only for **one day**, the thought "Oh my God, she's dead!" still echoed with numb white terror over and over in his mind. His skin crawling, he looked over at Harry for a bit of reassurance, only to find him turning several different shades of green. "Don't worry, I'll be back tomorrow!" Hermione told them, and she gave them each a visible, although otherwise imperceptible hug before floating off in the direction of the forbidden forest.

[Ok folks, I didn't follow Hermione on her ghostly mission. She went to many dangerous places, some deep inside the forbidden forest, some at the bottom of the lake, and talked to many creatures, some of which would have killed a human on sight. But talking and listening were all she did out there, and to list it all would take several chapters and would be horrifically boring, so suffice it to say that she **did** manage to piece together quite a bit of info on Voldemort and his secret weakness, and it only took her about 22 hours. And I'll tell you readers what she learned, just as soon as she explains it all to me.

* * *

When Hermione returned at last, she saw just what she was afraid she would see. Harry and Ron, running around in circles panicking, and Myrtle nowhere in sight. "She gave us the slip", they both blurted out the moment they saw the ghost of Hemione.

Hermione rolled her eyes with sort of a bored/annoyed "Ugh, I knew this would happen" expression on her face. "Where's the marauder's map? It'll show us where Myrtle is." Harry and Ron glanced stupidly at each other with a look of dawning comprehension. "Oh yeah, the **map**! 

The map showed Moaning Myrtle inside Slytherin hall. "Slytherin?!? What's she doing in **there**?" Hermione counted the windows. "Ok, its the third window from the corner nearest Ravenclaw." And off she went towards Slytherin. From outside, she counted three windows over from the corner nearest Ravenclaw, and flew straight in through the open window.

No sooner than Hermione had entered the room, she gasped in complete and utter horror at the sight of her own body. Not that it was dead or anything. Its just that it was... on top of... **Goyle?!? eewww, gross!! "Bloody Hell, Myrtle!** What are you **doing?**", she bellowed. But Myrtle didn't seem to hear. She was too busy kissing an overgrown, disgusting, idiot. An idiot who looked up just in time to see the ghost of Hermione as it dove into its rightful body, sending the ghost of Myrtle ricocheting out.

Hermione, now in her own body, gave a violent shudder. Her disgust at the whole situation, combined with what had been, only a moment ago, Myrtle's pleasure, made for quite a contradiction of emotions. She pulled herself free from the moron who still had his hands where they had no business being, and landed headfirst in a pile of empty butterbeer cans.

Struggling to her feet, she caught site of Myrtle, who was floating upside-down near the ceiling with a stupid grin on her face. "There you are! What gives you the right to..." But Myrtle still wasn't listening. She drifted right out the door and into the hallway, and Hermione went charging after her, giving her a stern talking to as a group of curious people began gathering to watch. "Just because I let you **borrow** my body, that doesn't mean you can do just **anything** in it! I mean, **gross!** You made out with **Goyle?**" Hermione continued her lecture for several minutes, and Myrtle apologized profusely. But she still kept getting that stupid grin on her ghost of a face.

Hermione finally noticed the crowd of gawking people, and turned to yell at them: "What are **you** looking at?!?". They began to snort and giggle.

Hermione suddenly realized what everyone was gawking at, and shrieked louder than ever. "**Myrtle, you PERVERT! Where are my CLOTHES?!?**" The door to Goyle's room opened slightly, and from it extended a hand, holding Hermione's wand and gown. She grabbed both, quickly put her gown back on, and hurried off towards Gryffindor to tell Ron and Harry what she had learned. (And to give **them** what for, for losing track of Myrtle.)

* * *


End file.
